Paul Revere

"One if by land, two if by sea." Paul Revere finished typing the phrase--destined to be famous--into his cell phone and hit send. His job was done. It would now be up to his fellow revolutionaries to spread the word of the impending invasion and prepare for the British arrival in Concord. Whichever route they chose, the Americans would be ready.

Revere was free to relax and enjoy his fruity umbrella drink next to the pool. He reflected on how when historians wrote about his story many decades from now, they'd almost certainly get many of the incidental details wrong.

Platero And I: The Tour

Do not judge me with your eyes, Platero. I had the best intentions helping the lost walkers on their way.

I know there is a shorter route, but that couple seemed sympathetic and I had the impression that their restaurant was still filled up.

Thanks to the detour I made them take, they get a nice view over the valley, past the cherry trees - currently in full bloom - and can see the foal grazing in the meadow since yesterday.

Admit it, Platero. They will enjoy it more than just turning right at the end of the road to get there.

From Guest Contributor Hervé Suys

Hervé (°1968 – Ronse, Belgium) started writing short stories whilst recovering from a sports injury and he hasn’t stopped since. Generally he writes them hatless and barefooted.

Sailing To America

There was something about the endless sky, gray and somber, and the ship’s surging through the dark swirling waters of the Atlantic, that prompted Macbeth to worry about the past. The witches. The blood. The trouble that followed. Was there a route to forgiveness? People went down on their knees, didn’t they? Could he hire someone to do it for him? He was still royalty, wasn’t he? But the breeze was so soothing, the trouble, so remote. Surely Scotland was a memory best forgotten. Besides, in the distance, he could almost see, shining like a pardon, the Statue of Liberty.

From Guest Contributor Linda Lowe

Linda Lowe's stories and poems have appeared in Gone Lawn, Tiny Molecules, Eunoia Review, Misfit Magazine, Six Sentences, and others.

The Great Moose Walk

NATURE SUBMISSION:

It was time for The Great Moose Walk. The moose knew it was their task to walk from northern Sweden to the somewhat more hospitable south. In recent years cameras had been placed on their route, and people all over the world watched the moose on television. Inevitably, the cameras affected the animals, who knew that humans wanted to be entertained. "Hey guys," the head of Moosedom said, "Let's show them a thing or two." So they made odd gestures, smiled a lot, pranced and danced and generally showed off. Then the head of Moosedom yelled, "Hey, guys, watch this!"

From Guest Contributor Anita G. Gorman

The Last Call Before A Trek

He woke up early that Sunday morning excited to go on a trek. His friends had been calling since morning, planning the route, discussing apparel. He was enthusiastic. It was a perfect getaway from the usual day-to-day stress. Chirping birds, a cool breeze, and serenity!

Last night had been disastrous. His wife was not satisfied with their sex life. She was adventurous and experienced. He had made bad decisions at work. To top it all off, he'd brawled with a friend.

He was about to leave when his phone rang. His ex-girlfriend said, "I love you". He skipped the trek.

From Guest Contributor Manmeet Chadha

Manmeet is an Alumunus from the London School of Economics & Political Science. He works in India as an Economist & Writer.

Road To The Suburbs

Her house was situated next to a busy route. A road which connected the city to the southern parts of the suburbs.

The whole year, living in that house without wired broadband, with the incessant dust of the road, and the smell of pollution as the trucks roared by; she could barely sleep.

In her dreams she murdered and killed drivers of four-wheeled vehicles, and imagined a day when she could make their lives miserable.

The next year the media went gaga over the unaccounted increase in car crashes on that road. She was not on the list of suspects.

From Guest Contributor Debarun Sarkar

Debarun sleeps, eats, reads, smokes, drinks, labors and occasionally writes stories and submits them. Recent works have appeared or are forthcoming in Off the Coast, The Opiate, Aainanagar, Rat's Ass Review, Cerebration and here at A Story in 100 Words. He can be reached at debarunsarkar.wordpress.com

Sanity

It started to rain as I got down from the ramshackle bus at the edge of the nondescript town. "Which way is the Nowhere Inn?” I asked the man hidden behind the newspaper. There was no response.

“Can you tell me which way…”

“Aren’t we all looking for the way…” the man had strangely glowing eyes. I noticed he had his paper open upside down. “I have an easier route for you…” He flicked out a knife.

Suddenly, a huge van with the legend NEW HOPE ASYLUM drew up.

It was time for me to return to my nightmarish home.

From Guest Contributor Sourya Chowdhury

Sourya is a sports journalist based in New Delhi